


Evil Kink

by E_Scribble



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Cursed Derek, Curses, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Horny Witches, Humor, Kinks, M/M, Seduction, Sex fixes it, kind of but not really evil derek, kind of dark?, light bondage tho nothing crazy, what doesnt sex fix, yay smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 10:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4518438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/E_Scribble/pseuds/E_Scribble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles walks into Derek madly chanting about the demise of the world, he doesn't expect it to end in sex. But it does. (When does it not?)</p><p>Or, the one where Derek has been cursed by an angry, horny witch and he thinks he is an evil undertaker and has to show Stiles who is boss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Evil Kink

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where this idea came from, but I literally just wrote it tonight. It hasn't been beta'd so all mistakes are mine. This is probably the kinkiest thing I've written so far :> I hope you guys are proud 
> 
> Enjoy

“I am going to cleanse this world,” a deep voice declared, echoing from inside Derek’s dimly lit apartment. “I am going to rid this world of all its hinderings, unleash it from the mortal, petty chain that is human existence. Once I am done, the earth will be purified, a replenished version as the Great Mother desired.”

Stiles blinked, frowning as he stood in the doorway. Okay, so, he knew that being the boyfriend of an Alpha werewolf could get a bit weird at times, a lot of times, surprisingly, like the one time he had walked in on Derek humping the floor while listening to Britney Spears on repeat because he had accidentally consumed a “Spears Sugarcoat” at a party Cora had invited him to. He had rutted himself out to Britney’s voice for about a week. Now, every time a song of hers came on, Derek’s cock rose like the Eiffel Tower.

However, what he was witnessing at the moment probably took the cake.

So far.

Derek stood in the middle of his living room, amidst a circle of candles, some summoning candles, others gifts from Laura to him. The strong scent of pumpkin spice and clear ocean waters mixed pleasantly together. Derek was holding what appeared to be a cookbook in his long, elegant fingers, and was using his left hand to stir a wooden spoon restlessly around in a giant plastic cauldron. Like, the kind they sold at Halloween.

Squinting and unsure if he should even begin to attempt an understanding of the situation, Stiles lingered in the doorway a bit longer, watching as Derek’s lips moved.

“The Great Mother has commanded that this earth be cleansed of all evil, and what is not evil but the stinking rot of humanity? What is not evil, but the tedious cruelty of love? I will bring forth my followers from the Deep Abyss and they shall stand behind me, and together we shall redeem this sunken, shallow wasteland of a world.”

Stiles bit his lip to keep from either laughing or coughing, he wasn’t sure what exactly was stuck in his throat at the moment, but he must have made some sort of noise because Derek turned to look at him, his light eyes holding an uncanny yet shallow darkness.

It took Stiles less than a minute to figure out that Derek had been magicked. By an angry witch with a mean sense of humor. Again.

“I see that the Great Mother has delivered the sacrificial lamb to my threshold.” Derek thundered, and he smiled delightedly.

Stiles stepped into the foyer of Derek’s apartment, closing his door behind him. “Wait, so the Great Mother sent you a _stripper_? Wow, she must be one heck of a mom,” Stiles commented, flipping on the light with a self-amused grin.

Derek flinched and hissed at the golden glow of the dim bulb, the book falling out of his hand. It landed on its pages, the cover gleaming in the light.

It read, _The Simple Cookbook for the Simple Mind_.

“I see you’re summoning deathly spells using your magical spell book again, oh Dark One.” Stiles spoke swiftly, hanging his light jacket up on the coat rack.

Derek huffed, pleased with being called _Dark One_ apparently, and bent over to retrieve the fallen cook book. His ass pushed against his skinny jeans spectacularly, but Stiles didn’t think Derek would appreciate knowing that at the moment.

“The Great Mother seems to have a great sense of humor, to offer such a fresh young virgin.”

Stiles took a seat down on the bar, swiveling in the wooden kitchen chair lazily so he could perfectly see the living room. “Uh, I don’t know if you remember this, big boy, but I am _not_ a virgin. I’m almost exactly the opposite of a virgin, in fact. Do you even _know_ what you did to me the other night? You would have thought I was the only plate of food in a room with a starving man, the way you attacked me. You’re kind of a freak, you know that?” Stiles watched Derek with amused eyes.

He had to admit, he was always amused to a certain extent when Derek managed to get himself temporarily cursed by a witch. The cure was always either sex, (Stiles wasn’t sure how it was possible to have _that_ many horny witches on the loose) or some type of potion concoction that Deaton would create.

Derek paused, the hand that was stirring something in the plastic cauldron halting. “You mean you are not a virgin?” he asked, and his voice was a mixture of disappointment and arousal. Stiles wasn’t sure what to do with that.

He decided he’d just let the situation fan itself out. That’s what he usually did, anyways.

“If I remember correctly. Tell me, if I’ve had my ass completely owned and fucked until I cried, does that mean I still qualify as a virgin, or have the rules changed?”

Derek’s eyes darkened with anger and arousal, and Stiles grinned. He was going to get laid _so hard_.

“That makes you filthy,” Derek spoke, his words hoarse and unforgiving.

Stiles shrugged. “I can always lend a hand to finding a pure virgin. I’m here to help. In fact, you should know that most people call me Servicer Stiles.”

Derek dropped the cookbook and came forward suddenly, breaking from the circle of candles. “Do you know what I do to filthy things?” he asked, trailing a lingering finger down Stiles’ jawline.

Stiles felt his breath catch.

Derek was watching him, his eyes never missing a single reaction, and when he saw Stiles’ breath hitch, he smiled. It was a dark and lustful thing that sent shots of arousal straight to Stiles’ dick.

Suddenly he was being pulled off the chair, shoved roughly into the circle of candles. He was standing, a little put-off from being shoved, when a chair appeared to the side of him, still within the circle. There were hands at his back, gently trailing a line up and over his shoulders. Stiles began to relax into the touch, and just as his muscles went pliant, he was pulled roughly backwards, his spine hitting the hard, unforgiving wood of the chair.

He felt his wrists being positioned, tied with something that felt an awful lot like a silk tie. When Derek removed his hands, Stiles was bound to the chair.

His cock stirred in his pants, making the crotch area much too tight for comfort.

Derek came around the other side of the chair, smiling devilishly. He held up two more ties, and once Stiles’ ankles were also bound to the legs of the chair, Derek stood up.

He moved to the foyer, where Stiles had turned the light on, and flicked it off with a soft click. They were momentarily surrounded in darkness, but then Stiles’ eyes adjusted to the faint light emanating from the candles encircling them.

Stiles voice was raw when he asked, “What do you do to filthy things?”

Derek’s smile was like a whisper, a promise of darkness and pleasure and insanity. Stiles was unnerved by how aroused he was because of it.

“The Great Mother wishes for me to cleanse the earth,” he began, moving to push the plastic cauldron out of the way. “But I can also show the Great Mother what kind of filthy things exist on this plane.” Derek leaned closer, his lips just brushing the skin of Stiles’ jaw, so light it sent feathery rushes of pleasure down his arms.

“But filthy things need cleansing too,” he admitted, running his hands down Stiles’ front, evoking a shiver from him “and the only way I know how to cleanse is through pleasure,”

 _Knew it_ , Stiles thought silently in his mind. Damned horny witches.

The thought was quickly forgotten, however, when Derek brought his hand up and under Stiles thin shirt, palm ghosting over the pale skin, leaving goose bumps and shivers of desire in his wake. When he reached Stiles nipple, already hard and eager, he pinched it with his nails, hard enough to rip a cry from Stiles’ throat. He immediately soothed it, gently stroking over it in a motion that sent spikes of need shoot through Stiles with every touch.

There was a loud ripping noise, and Stiles’ realized a moment too late that Derek had ripped his shirt right down the middle, baring his midriff, his dusky and swollen nipples.

Derek made a low sound of approval, pushing the shreds of his shirt backs and down Stiles’ shoulders, so they hung limp and out of the way. Derek leaned down and carefully dragged his soft tongue over the sensitized flesh of Stiles’ nipples, causing Stiles’ to gasp and widen his eyes at the pleasure, the feeling of being unable to move pushing his arousal to another new level, somewhere he had never been before.

Derek smiled against his overheated skin, and reached down to fondle at Stiles’ crotch, eliciting and throaty moan from the paler boy. “You’re so needy for me,” Derek murmured, cupping Stiles’ bulk in his hand, watching the way Stiles’ body jerked with his movements. “You want me to relieve this pressure?” Derek asked, feather-light, moving his other hand down to softly press at the flesh just above Stiles’ erection. Where the heart of his arousal lay.

Stiles whimpered and nodded, and Derek stood swiftly, bending low to capture Stiles’ parted lips with his own. His mouth was as Stiles’ remembered it; soft and smooth and rough, the stubble scraping along his chin. Derek forced his mouth farther open, his tongue finding its way inside. He stroked the top of Stiles’ mouth with his tongue, subduing the shivers he caused by holding Stiles’ shoulders still.

He broke away, panting slightly, a flush to his cheeks that hadn’t been there a moment before. “It was with a kiss that the Great Mother began this world, but it is with much more that I will end you,” he promised, and Stiles moaned, despite the absolute absurdity of the words, and had he not been about to blow his load, he would have made a sarcastic comment.

Derek bent lower, unzipping his pants slowly, easing them down Stiles’ shaking hips. The smaller boy gasped as his erection was freed into the steamy air, pressing around his dick like a soft blanket.

Derek smiled slowly as he saw it, watched the way Stiles pulled feebly against his restrains. Stiles could feel the flush of his cheeks, hear his panting escape from his mouth, the wild movement of his chest rising and falling.

Derek was on him again, but this time he was much more abrupt. His hand was latched around Stiles’ cock, his palms expertly finding the position that made Stiles keen.

“You will be cleansed,” Derek whispered softly, beginning with a single stroke that had Stiles jerking and gasping, “and you will _like it_.”

Derek gave a harsh, swift tug on Stiles’ dick and he cried out, fingers clenching as he struggled against his bonds. He wanted to _touch_ Derek, craved the feeling of his hands running smoothly through the thick forest of Derek’s hair. The white-hot and blinding pleasure sweeping through him was making him shake and go weak, body melting pliantly into the chair as Derek’s large palm stroked and pulled the pleasure from Stiles’ body like he was pulling a tune from a guitar.

“Oh my God, Derek,” Stiles cried, arching into Derek’s touch. His eyes were manic, his lower lip caught between his teeth, and his full, rapt attention was on Stiles, watching his reaction to every tug and pull, every filthy whispered word that passed his plush lips.

“Yes, Stiles,” Derek spoke softly again, his speed picking up. “You need this, you crave this,” Derek was bringing him close, so close. Stiles’ could taste the sharp tang of his orgasm on his tongue, he could _feel_ it –

And Derek pulled away, at the very last second.

Stiles gasped, a whining, broken sound escaping him. “No, Derek,” Stiles begged, the heat and arousal and absolute pure _need_ sending him arching madly into the chair, pulling harshly on his ties. “Please, Derek,” Stiles asked breathlessly. Derek allowed the single, terribly teasing touch of his skimming finger trail along Stiles swollen erection, his eyes gleaming.

“You need it, don’t you Stiles? You need me to bring you over the edge, to purify you, to _cleanse_ you, don’t you?” Derek smiled again, eyes following the movement of Stiles licking his lips desperately.

“Yes, Derek,” Stiles voice was wrecked; drenched in sex and arousal, hoarse and heavy. “I need you,”

Derek’s mouth covered Stiles’ cock in a swift, blinding movement, and Stiles gasped, the pleasure peaking, coming to a blinding climax. His eyes flew open and he gave a strangled shout as he came, the pleasure being pulled from him, flowing into Derek’s mouth. Derek continued to suckle at his cock, even after the orgasm had faded, running over his sensitive cock until Stiles had arched hard in the chair and _screamed_ for him to stop.

Then Derek was swiftly on his feet again, tugging down his jeans, and his dark red erection sprang free. Derek took two steps forward, so his crotch was level with Stiles’ mouth. He felt his throat go dry before Derek placed two hands on either side of his head, felt the soft nuzzle of his nose against the shell of his ear. “Now you will show me what your filthy mouth can do,”

Derek’s cock was suddenly in Stiles’ mouth, but he didn’t mind. Craved it, even. His lips parted willingly around the hard length of Derek’s dick, sucking and pulling, his tongue swiftly moving up and down his shaft. Derek let out a low moan of arousal, his fingers tightening in Stiles’ hair.

“You’re…” Derek seemed at a loss for words as Stiles sucked him hard into his mouth, tugging him farther down with his tongue. He could feel the muscles of Derek’s stomach jerk and clench, knew that he was reaching his breaking point fast. Stiles licked the slit of his dick, sucking at the precome steadily leaking from it, and Derek came with a groan, body going limp as he spurted into Stiles mouth.

He slumped forward, his head coming to a rest on Stiles’ shoulders, eyelids fluttering heavily. He looked like he was awakening from a hearty slumber, and Stiles didn’t move for a moment, allowing Derek to reenter reality.

He blinked and rubbed at his eyes, staring at Stiles sheepishly.

Stiles grinned happily, despite still being tied up. “You know, I think that was one of the kinkiest witches you have ever met,”

Derek blushed harder, shaking his head and standing up. “I don’t know why it’s always _me_ who pisses them off,” he complained, kicking half-heartedly at the cookbook lying on the floor. “I mean, I put _milk_ in that cauldron. I was stirring _milk_ and talking about destroying the world.”

Stiles grinned again, wiggling his eyebrows. “Yeah, you were all evil and stuff. It was great,”

Derek rolled his eyes and bent lower to start untying Stiles from the chair, but a noise from Stiles stopped him. Stiles was staring at him with heavy lust, a small, sexy smile quirking his lips. “I think I have an evil kink,” he murmured, and it only took a second for Derek’s eyes to darken with lust as well, before he leaned up and captured Stiles’ lips.

Maybe horny witches weren’t so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to send me requests! 
> 
> You can reach me at my terrible tumblr blog - massive-triangle.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


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